A Toast Before Death
by Nathan Fraust
Summary: "I'll make it right."


A Toast Before Death

 _December 31, 2018_

Something felt _wrong_.

I looked around with narrowed eyes, ignoring the open admiration from the other bar patrons and the blaring of the TV as the year drew to a close for everyone to see. All of the recognition bothered me, to be honest; just because I was head of the ACC (not to mention the well-known fact that I was the first Conduit outed in Empire City) didn't mean I needed to be stared at when I was just trying to get a drink. Of course, with the resources at my disposal, I could just have a counter installed at the apartment, but Trish-

I winced inwardly, turning back to the countertop. To say our current relationship was "rocky" was a bit of an understatement. I tried everything, short of levitating our whole apartment building to Reynard Cove, to keep the paparazzi from sticking their slimy little fingers into our lives, but the gnats kept coming. Agent Kuo's security detail didn't do jack shit to stop it, a point I'd mentioned multiple times in our most recent screaming match. Idiots were probably too far gone in their shiny new Leecher guns to notice their fellow compatriots doing what they were wanting to ever since they met me.

Giving a low growl, I slapped the worn wood, drawing Jack's attention, then withdrew a ten. "Gimme a Tar Pit," I muttered. "Make it strong."

Jack smirked, then turned to the rack of drinks behind him; a few minutes later, he placed a shot glass in front of me, then poured it a third-full with mead, filling the next third with chilled pour-over coffee, before letting a stream of black fall from his fingertips, topping off the drink. Swiping the ten off the countertop, he tipped an imaginary top-hat in my direction. "Pleasure doin' business with ya, mate."

I gave him a humorless smile. I watched him walk away for a minute or two, then picked up the drink (Jack's specialty) and downed it in one move.

I grimaced as the "tar" kicked in, and closed my eyes as the world started to shift. Shaking my head in an effort to clear it, I gripped the countertop tightly to keep my balance.

"Good stuff, huh?"

I cracked open an eye, then looked over to my left. A Native American guy grinned back at me; I resisted the urge to snap at him to leave me alone.

"Yeah," I grunted, then coughed as my lunch threatened to come up.

He shrugged his shoulders; the light brown leather jacket round his slight frame crinkled at his action. "Not my style. More of a 'straight draft' guy myself." He lifted his right hand from the table. "Hey!"

Jack turned round.

"Whatever's on tap, please. And the same for the other guy."

Jack grunted, then started cleaning a glass for the guy.

He looked back at me, and I had to resist leaning back at the sheer _hunger_ in his eyes.

"Who did you say you were, again?"

"Ah, sorry, man. So rude of me." He held out his left hand. "Delsin."

"Interesting name."

As soon as I touched Delsin's bare palm, I staggered. My stomach started to ache, and I leaned over slightly, gripping my stomach with my free arm. Dad's cap fell from my head. _What the_ hell _?_

"You alright, man?" Delsin's voice echoed, like a voice at the end of a tunnel.

"Yeah, just give me a sec."

Almost immediately, the ache vanished.

I picked up Dad's cap, then straightened, absolutely bewildered.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." I looked at Delsin once more, then gave a shaky smile. "Cole. Cole McGrath."

Delsin's eyes lit up. "The 'Electric Man' "?

"The one and only."

He gave a chuckle. "Sweet."

"What, you one of those 'Neo-Thor' crazies?"

His grin was skull-like. "Oh, no. Just a fan."

He lifted his untouched glass; I mimicked the action.

"To another year," he said simply as the entire bar started repeating the numbers on-screen.

 _10…9…8.._

"To another year," I repeated, in a daze.

 _7...6...5…_

Delsin started to rise from his seat. "See ya around, Cole." He started to walk away, pulling his grey hoodie over his head with a fingerless glove...

 _4...3…_

He twisted his head back to look at me once more. "Oh…"

 _2...1…_

"And Happy New Year."

If only I'd snapped his neck right there and then.

ō

 _December 31, 2020_

I clenched my fists as the memory washed over me… the horror…

 _Trish…_

 _Brooke…_

 _Lucy…_

I raised my right hand, feeling the cold steel cage flex, copper wires jabbing deeper into twisted flesh. Focusing on the power within, I let out one last thought to a dead world and its blood-soaked Beast.

 _I'll make it right._

* * *

 **Author's Note: I've been wanting to write an interaction between Cole and Delsin in a non-hostile setting for a while now, and seeing as how it's New Year's Day, I figure it's as good a time as any.**

 **Oh, and Delsin's the original Beast (Kessler's timeline), in case it wasn't obvious enough.**

 **Happy New Year! Hope it goes well for you guys!**

 **-Nate**


End file.
